You can get
dogmatic when it feels like Limbo. Tie yourself into
knots, become like a rabid creature, then you realize
the vitally important point you were trying to make was
an error. But it's all too late, so you got to start
looking around for reasons however mindless to preserve
your sense of Pride. Or you can just say "I was wrong, I
behaved like a ...." whatever you can manage this side
of Blasphemy. And it's securing the distinction between
real and unreal that remains critical to what's loosely
referred to as progress, or a more harmonious and
cheerful discordance. There are facts, but there are
also deceits. In the end the difference is motive, what
you're trying to prove and more important why. Too proud
to admit a mistake, too dumb to, or the always
forgivable honest search for enlightenment...

There used
to be a Cardinal Sin that was given the name Vainglory.
A lovely word, but which as a result of a desire by the
holy fathers to simplify the growing number of Cardinal
Sins by getting rid of the more obviously appalling
examples of truly nasty behavior, Pope Gregory melded
Vainglory into Pride. Vainglory is like the very top end
of Pride, the gold standard if you will, it's the "I
only bathe in Donkey Milk" level. The level is such that
no one in their right mind would take the behavior as
anything other than highly suspect, unless they saw
something they wanted from the behavior and have become
seducers and panderers which by Dante's reckoning put's
them right down there in the eighth circle of hell where
the seducers and panderers take their turn to get poked
with sticks for eternity. The lowest circle, the ninth
circle, nine is a four and a five, is would you believe,
treachery. Oh what a tangled web....